The Last One to Know
by ShakespeareanHoneyBadgers
Summary: Rumplestiltskin sits with Morraine during her last moments on earth.


Disclaimer: I don't own anyone. Not a one.

Lady Morraine of the Front Lands had a biography that sounded too good to be true. A war hero before she was even eighteen, she had been swept out of a life of poverty by a handsome young lord. She brought prosperity to the province and a peace none had known in their lifetimes. Life improved for the lower classes, and trade was abundant. She brought fourth five young men and four young women into the world, who brought forth grandchildren and then great-grandchildren. She was admired and loved by her people, and continued to lead them with intelligence, care and understanding even when her husband slipped into the nether world. As she descended peacefully into old age, her youngest daughter's son took up the mantle of her position, and she retired to a quiet life of reading and spinning wool while her fingers were still nimble.

Her brown hair had long ago gone white, her skin wrinkled and leathery. It hurt to walk, her fingers were swollen and painful, and she couldn't see or hear too well anymore. But she retained her wit as her body failed her, and even as her voice shook she spoke clearly and wisely. Yes, one hundred and twelve years was quite a lot of time, and she didn't want to ask for more.

It was early morning as she shuffled out to her manor's gardens, a roaming expanse with a pond and a large apple tree. Nothing fenced off their estate from the woods at her request, even though her grandchildren sighed and rolled their eyes when they thought she wasn't paying attention. The woods were her old playground; they were as comforting to her as a well-worn baby blanket. She did not expect nobles to understand.

The sun wasn't even halfway to its apex, but the sky was cast in lovely shades of blues and pinks and oranges. There was no more of the blood red she remembered so vividly from her childhood, and for that she was grateful. Her hand reached out to steady herself against the apple tree.

"I thought you might come," she said softly, as though speaking to the air.

She felt no surprise as he materialized, approaching her hesitantly.

"Of course I came," he murmured tenderly.

It had been nearly a century since the wheel of fate turned; an age restriction lowered, a desperate father trying to save his son. And yet nothing had changed; he came as always to her dressed in simple clothes, his hair the same shaggy length, always timid but caring. Yes of course the curse had taken its toll, distorting his flesh to a scaly greyish-gold, his eyes unnatural and his voice pitched. But beneath all that lay Baelfire's father, the crippled spinner with a large heart.

Morraine accepted his help as he slowly lowered her to the ground beneath the apple tree, overlooking the pond. She sighed softly.

"It's a lovely day to die," she remarked.

Rumplestiltskin nodded, "A lovely day indeed, dearie."

There was no protesting, no insistence that she couldn't know when she'd die or begging her not to speak like that. Just simple acceptance. He kept his arm around her as they sat, close as old friends, staring out over the water.

"Thank you, Rumplestiltskin," she said.

"It's not such a great thing, helping an old woman sit down."

"Not that," she muttered, though she supposed that warranted thanks as well, "For everything… For my life."

Rumplestiltskin fidgeted, "You can't prove anything," he grumbled, nudging a boot into the dirt.

"I suppose not," Morraine agreed, "But I know you've been there for me, watching over me. I felt your presence at my wedding, and at each birth of a child. I never _saw_ you…but you were there."

He didn't object to her claims.

Her eyes flicked down as she saw something slip between his fingers; a thread of gold. It passed through them like the wool he had used to spin, those strange hands doing familiar motions.

"You were the only one of Bae's friends who wasn't afraid of me," he murmured, "You stood by him…to the end."

"Because I knew the real you, the one who took care of Bae when his mother left, the one who would help my family out anyway you could, even if that meant you had to go without… I remembered who you were," Her lips twitched, "Don't you remember that old saying, that a lost sheep is not a bad sheep, it is simply lost?"

"I'm afraid I'm a bit more than lost," he muttered, swinging the thread to and fro.

Morraine swallowed roughly, "I loved Baelfire, you know."

"…I know."

She had woken up not too long ago and yet already she was tired. But this was a different tired, the final fatigue of the long run of life. To fall asleep now meant that she would never wake again.

He wound the chain around his finger, "You know, Morraine, that you are the last one alive that knows these things. About my old life. About the dagger. About Baelfire. With you dies my secrets."

"Unless I told them to my children, and they told their children," she teased.

Rumplestiltskin smirked and she gave a hoarse laugh as he playfully poked her, "You better not have… I don't want to have to turn your family into a bunch of snails."

Morraine rested her head on Rumplestiltskin's shoulder and she felt him tense up, sensing the limit on their time.

"You'll find him again, you know. You and Baelfire will be together, in the end."

"I certainly have all the time in the world to do so," he said, then winced as he realized now was not the best time to discuss morality.

She smiled, "Thank you Rumplestiltskin…for being with me."

He squeezed her shoulder, "Of course, dearie. I am honored that you would choose to spend your last earthly moments with me."

Something wet hit her hair, and she realized it could be none other than his own silent tears. He would grieve her, the little girl he protected because she loved his son. What an odd thing the Dark One was, when one saw the humanity lurking deep within him.

"I'm not afraid of death today," she assured him, "If you had asked me when I rode off with the Duke, or as I lay in the trenches of the battlefield…I would have said "yes". But death is not an enemy to fend off now; it is a friend that will take my hand and lead me somewhere safe," she smiled, "Death is like you."

Rumplestiltskin chortled, "Well thank you, dear. I've always wanted to be compared to death," he sneered.

"It's a compliment," she closed her eyes, feeling herself slipping away, "When you see Bae again…tell him hi for me?"

"I promise," he vowed.

He trembled so beneath her, more wetness falling onto her hair. She barely made out his words as he spoke them, raw with emotion as he whispered them into her ear.

"Goodnight little angel."

**III**

A few hours later, her family came upon the late Lady Morraine of the Front Lands. She sat upright against the apple tree, though she tilted to one side as if leaning against someone and upon closer inspection, a thread of gold had been woven between her clasped fingers.


End file.
